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She didn’t answer. Craig rushed around me, presumably to grab the others, as I watched six men that I could see surround her. She dropped into a defensive stance before striking out, only to take a hit to her jaw so hard her head rocked back. My chest tightened at the sight. I knew just how bad that hit would have hurt. The voice in my head was screaming at me that this wasreal. She took another hit to her ribs and doubled over with a pained cry.

“Oh fuck, no, no, no.” the words tumbled out. “This isn’t… it can’t be.. She’s supposed to be the bad guy. Fuck! Fuck! No. VICTORIA! FIGHT BACK!”

I watched, horror slowly washing over me as she struggled to use everything the others had taught her, only to be met with a flurry of fists. I couldn’t deny it any longer, not with the beating she was taking; this was real. I’d been wrong. So fucking wrong, and she was being hurt while I could only watch. All because I’d been so damned determined to be wrong.

Another set of boots moved closer to the screen as her attackers wrestled her off her feet. I could barely hear their murmured words over her screams before a foot came rushing forward, stomping her phone and causing the screen to go black.

“Victoria!” I shouted, shaking the phone as if somehow I could get the image to come back. “Answer me!” Nothing. “Victoria! Answer me, god damn it!” Nothing happened, no response—just a dead, black screen and silence.

The walls of the room seemed to collapse inward, the air draining from my lungs, my body locking up with a cold, sick fear I had never felt before. This wasn’t staged; this wasn’t a bit or performance. This wasreal. It repeated in my head like a sick chant. I’d just watched the woman I loved, the woman my brother had loved, get beaten and kidnapped. And it was real. She was gone. And the last thing I’d done—

Oh god, the last thing I’d done was threaten her with a fuckinggunand tell her she was better off dead. It might have been unloaded, but that didn’t change what it would have been in her eyes. It was a threat. I’d hurt her, belittled her, made her cry… I’dassaultedher.

I crumpled forward, choking on a sound I couldn’t control, the ground giving way beneath me as I hit my knees. What if the last thing she thought of me was that I hated her? I deserved everything Leighton had done. Worse, even. I should let him finish the job.

But… they’d need guns to get her back. They’d need someone behind a trigger to make them pay for every bruise they put on her skin, every pained or fearful whimper that left her lips. I was a monster, but I’m stillhermonster even if I had been lost and blind for a while. I was going to do whatever it took to get her back, and once she was home and I knew she was safe, I’d let her decide how to punish me. Even if it meant letting Leighton finish the job.

Chapter Forty

Victoria

The cold from the hard concrete seeped through my jeans, causing me to shiver. The only warmth wherever I was came from my breath in the burlap sack over my head. My chest and shoulders felt strained, and my wrists burned from the rope that held them behind my back. Everything ached.

I’d used everything the guys had taught me to try and get away from the men who’d ambushed me on my way to the diner. The blacked-out van finally pulled up behind me in the curve. It had been creeping along behind me for several minutes before that, but the six men launching themselves out of the sliding door at me without the van ever stopping took me by surprise.

I just barely managed to dodge being taken to the ground when they leaped at me, but I didn’t hesitate, letting the phone drop to the ground so I could defend myself. I fought back with everything I had, all the training the guys had put me through coming to me like second nature. My attackers hadn’t seemed to care about whether or not they injured me, their fists landing blows that left my ribs feeling bruised, my lip busted open again, and one eye swollen shut. They’d muscled me into the back of the van, using their fists to try and subdue me as I continued to fight back. One of them landed a blow to my head that knockedme unconscious just as the van peeled away. When I woke up, I was here—kneeling on cold, hard concrete, a sack over my head, and silence aside from a steady drip of water somewhere behind me.

It felt like I’d been here for hours when the sound of multiple footsteps reached my ears. The rattle of a metal door sliding open followed, and I could tell by the way the air moved that at least two people had moved to stand behind me. My head jerked back as the burlap sack was pulled away, scratching my face. Overhead lights blinded me, and I blinked against the sudden brightness, trying to adjust.

The sound of a throat clearing snapped my attention to the person standing before me. I let my eyes move from their polished boots, up their body, and settling on their face. Shock and recognition warred for dominance inside me, and I said the only thing I could as I looked into the face of the person who’d been after me all along.

“You.”

To be continued...